


Safe from Spiders, Safe from Cupboards

by alwayslily22, Des98



Series: What if? [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby Harry raised by Minnie and Poppy, F/F, F/M, Harry comforts Ron, Harry is the best friend ever, Harry loves his best friend Ron, I love him so much help!, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Minnie is a boss mummy, Molly is a great mummy too, Omg I'm smitten, Poor Molly is so overworked, Ron's fear of spiders, Sweet, Sweet baby Harry, Toddler Harry, Toddler Ron, Tooth Rotting fluff with a bit of angst, and so is Poppy, even as a tiny smol bab, my sweet smol son, they love their little Harry so much, what a good baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 03:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayslily22/pseuds/alwayslily22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Des98/pseuds/Des98





	Safe from Spiders, Safe from Cupboards

It was a fairly typical Saturday afternoon on Number 5, Privet Drive: Minerva was doing her marking from the week, Poppy was making dinner, and Harry was colouring happily in the corner, the sound of his crayons grating into the paper and his cheerful humming of “la-di-dum-do, dah-dah-dah-de,” a peaceful backdrop for Minnie to work against.  His pudgy little feet were bare, and he wiggled his toes against the hardwood floor as he concentrated on filling in the lines of his drawing. He’d tripped playing in the garden that morning (Harry had seemed unconcerned about it, but it scared his mums like it always did when anything went wrong for their little boy), so there was a Wanda the Witch plaster on one fat knee.  His loose curls were no neater than usual, one even sticking straight up at the back of his head, and there were strawberry stains all over his light blue shirt from when he’d dropped his sandwich at lunch (this _had_ bothered Harry, who apologized over and over again for ‘making a mess’ and tried frantically to clean it up until Minnie and Poppy managed to convince him they weren’t upset).  Both women in the house thought they’d never seen anything quite so perfect.

“Lookit mamas, lookit!” He suddenly exclaimed, pulling himself up and toddling over to show them his finished artwork.  Minerva looked up from her essays and Poppy put a stasis charm on the pasta sauce to come see.

“Oh, that’s lovely Harry!” Minnie praised, even more enthusiastically than usual, remembering how bad their poor child had felt about such a little thing as accidentally dropping his lunch earlier as she angrily set fire to the house next door in the sanctity of her head.

“It’s our fam-ly!” The little boy declared proudly, and indeed the resemblance was obvious.  The two stick figures in the middle had their graying hair in a bun on the top of their heads just like Minerva and Poppy, and Minnie’s had her favourite emerald green witches hat.  Between them, holding each of their hands, was a smiling baby stick figure, a scribble of haphazard black crayon on the top of its head and the glasses on its face marking it as Harry. On their right were Remus and Sirius, the former signaled out by the careful lines Harry lovingly etched onto Uncle Moony’s face to represent his scars.  Sirius’ stick figure was wearing a black jacket and holding hands with Remus’, and on the left of it all was Severus, his figure wearing a frowny face and stirring what appeared to be a cauldron.

“See mamas?” Harry continued, carefully pointing one finger at each drawing.  “Over der is me, and den Mama Mins and Mama Flower, and Pa’foot and Unca Moony and Unca Sev!”

“It’s beautiful!”  Poppy told him earnestly, kissing him on the cheek and conjuring a picture frame.   _“This one_ goes on the fireplace.”

“Woah,” Harry’s eyes went wide and his dimples became prominent as he smiled gleefully, clapping his plump little hands together as the healer asked where she should hang it.

“A little bit dat way, so it’s in da middle,” Harry told her, pointing his thumb to the right.  Minerva cocked her head, agreeing- it _had_ been a bit off-centre before.

This was the first drawing that had gone above the floo, but the house was by no means barren- Harry’s artwork lined the walls, the fridge, the notice board the two women kept above their bed- everywhere.  He didn’t ask them to do it, either- they just loved the way his whole face lit up and his precious round cheeks pinked shyly whenever they told him that a drawing was good enough to hang up (they were _all_ good enough to hang up).  Between the many, many drawings of them playing together, Harry’s pets, Harry and Ron playing in the garden, Percy reading to Harry, Bill discovering secret vaults of gold and jewels, Molly cooking, Arthur working in his shed, Sev brewing potions, Remus reading in Sirius’ lap, Sirius riding his motorbike, the twins making things explode, Ginny chewing on wooden blocks, and Charlie taming dragons were photographs of all of them.  

In the living room above the bookshelf was the couple’s favourite photo, a giant family portrait, Poppy smiling as she tossed Harry above her head and Minerva making twinkling fairy lights come out of her wand, set against the backdrop of the sunset over Hogwarts.  When they tapped it with their wands, it changed to a still photograph of them all smiling in muggle dress clothes, Harry sitting up straight and proud against Minerva’s hip.

“There,” Poppy declared, stepping back so they could all look at the newest piece.  “Now our house is perfect.”

“Mama Flower,” Harry giggled, “you _always_ say dat when I draw sometin!”

“Because you always make it more perfect,” Minerva said, kissing his nose.  Harry giggled and blushed again.

“Love you mamas,” he told them earnestly, and they both melted a little more.

“We love you too baby,” they answered in unison.  “Always and forever.”

Poppy gave Harry one more kiss on the cheek and brushed her finger against the ticklish spot under his left ear, causing him to shriek and tuck his head against his shoulder as she returned to the kitchen to finish dinner.  The heavenly smell of Alfredo was just starting to permeate the house when the floo rang, and Harry, knowing that only the Weasleys had this address, motioned eagerly to be put down as he teetered towards the fireplace.

“Ma Molly!” He chirruped joyfully as the face of the Weasley matriarch, looking very frazzled, appeared in the flames.

“Hello dear,” she told him tiredly, running a hand through her hair.  It was then they began to hear distressed wailing in the background, and Minerva knelt down as well, putting an arm gently around her son.

“Is everything alright?” She asked the other mother.

Molly sighed.  “No one’s dying or anything, but the twins somehow managed to turn Ron’s favourite teddy bear into a spider, and even once I changed it back he was still terrified, poor thing, and I can’t get him to calm down.  Do you think Harry could come over, since they’re always so good at comforting each other?”

“I come help Won,” Harry announced seriously, nodding his head.  Minerva confirmed that they would, indeed, come through, and she shouted back to let her wife know what was going on before picking Harry up and letting him take a pinch of floo powder from the pot.

“The Burrow!” She called, Harry staying silent like they’d taught him so that there would be no confusion that could send them to the wrong place.

Ron was crying his eyes out on the other side, his bear lying across the room.  Every time he saw it, he burst into tears anew, the memory of it turning into a hairy, crawling spider causing him fresh bouts of terror.  Harry immediately teetered over and wrapped his arms around his friend.

“It’s okay Won,” he said comfortingly, patting the other toddler’s back.  “It’s a bear now- no mowe spidas.”

“It was weally scawy, Hawwy,” Ron whimpered, lower lip quivering.

“I know Won, I know,” Harry soothed, “but I touch it- show you it’s safe.”  He grabbed the teddy bear and gave it a squeeze, so Ron could see it wasn’t going to turn into a spider again.  He himself wasn’t scared of spiders- there had been tonnes of them in his cupboard, but they’d gotten on alright for the most part- they’d been the friendliest things in the house, actually.

“Good bear,” he crooned, stroking its fur.  “See Won- safe.”

“O-okaayyy,” Ron replied shakily, moving over to cautiously take his bear back from Harry, who pat his head proudly.

“Good job Won,” he declared, before turning to the Weasley twins, hands on hips and unconsciously mimicking Minerva’s posture when she was scolding some naughty Gryffindors.  “You made Won vewy scawed,” he scolded them. “Dat wasn’t vewy nice at all!” Sometimes when Harry was feeling very strongly about something, he started having more trouble with his r’s again.

“We’re sorry,” the twins responded, hanging their heads.  Molly looked at Harry in surprise- she’d scolded the two and they hadn’t looked as if they’d felt half so bad about it, but here Harry was getting them to feel actual remorse for messing with their younger brother.

Harry looked at their guilty faces and took his hands off their hips.  “It’s okay,” he told them, toddling over and giving them both a hug. While he was there, he saw the broken broom- the thing that had started this whole mess when Ron accidentally broke it, and put his little hands on it as it fit seamlessly back together.  “Spidas can be weally nice, but poor Won didn’t know dat, so you gotta be caweful.”

Molly and Minerva both looked at Harry in concern.  “What do you mean, dear?” Molly asked eventually. “You don’t go playing with spiders, do you?  Because that could be very dangerous.”

Harry cocked his head and looked at her, padding over to pat her hand.  “It’s okay,” he told her. “Der were spidas in my cupboard with Tun-i-a and Vern, and dey didn’t hurt me.  Only Tun-i-a and Vern hurt me.”

“Oh my…” Molly had both hands over her mouth, tears shining in her eyes.

“Hey, don’t be sad,” Harry told her, throwing his little arms around her knees in a hug.  “I’m okay now.”

Minerva picked him up, wondering if there was any way she could reasonably get away with murdering their neighbours in Number 4.  “We’re glad baby; we’re glad.”

“‘Cept I’m kinda hungwy,” he told his Mama Mins.  “Can we eat now?”

“Of course we can baby, of course,” Minerva told him, booping his nose.  As she turned to go back through the floo, she was just infinitely glad that he was with people who would feed him now.

 


End file.
